


On the Wings of Butterflies

by QuillerQueen



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Literary References & Allusions, inspired by The Scarlet Letter, oq au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:22:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23673013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillerQueen/pseuds/QuillerQueen
Summary: A quick one-shot inspired by The Scarlet Letter, for OQ Book Week 2020.
Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Robin Hood, Outlaw Queen
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10
Collections: OQ Book Week





	On the Wings of Butterflies

Regina Mills bore her punishment with the poise and composure of a queen.

She had been shamed, spat on, shunned in the streets. She had been judged, questioned, and threatened. She bore the brunt of her sin alone, even though her growing belly left no doubt as to the existence of a partner in crime.

Robin Locksley had been there that day. On his first day in Boston, he’d wandered onto the townsquare and saw her--a single, lone figure amid a sea of raging townspeople. And to see her standing on the scaffold and endure abuse for hours on end, branded forever by a scarlet “A” that stood in sharp contrast against her black attire, he was overcome by compassion. This young woman with deep, sad, defiant eyes had more character and nobility than all of her tormentors combined.

Since the moment he laid eyes on her, he was unable to look away. Not when others only glanced at her surreptitiously then ostentatiously turned away. Not when she glared back at him with suspicion, alarmed no doubt by his direct gaze in a town that was refusing her the courtesy. 

Regina Mills carried herself like a queen even when the whole world had turned its back on her. A mournful, inconsolable queen. The dark secrets etched in her soul threw a perpetual veil over her dark gaze.

When her child came into the world, she blossomed.

She named him Henry, after her father. And she loved him--oh how she loved him! She’d have laid down her life for him a myriad times, plucked the light--so recently returned, and so dazzlingly bright--from her own eyes if it meant he’d have more.

Henry Mills flourished basking in affection, and loved all things bursting with life. Meadows speckled with wildflowers and boughs in full blossom, fluffy litters of puppies and nests of barely hatched birds, sprigs and saplings sprouting in spring.

But above all he loved butterflies.

He’d chase them on tiny, chubby legs, venturing ever deeper into the forest with his mother in tow, squealing joyfully at every flutter of colourful wings. He’d babble happily and flash that toothy grin, and his mother’s face would light up like a thousand suns. Not even the presence of another, of one Robin Locksley, would dim that light.

Robin Locksley was a rare exception. He was, in fact, the only one allowed near young Henry Mills. Much as he was the only one to enjoy the tiniest shred of Regina Mills’ hard-to-come-by trust.

Robin Locksley showed her nothing but respect regardless of her past.

While others avoided her like the plague, Robin Locksley met her eyes with no hint of malice, or lechery, or disgust.

Robin Locksley looked at the mark of shame she carried on her chest and saw beyond it, straight to the heart she’d thought locked away for good.

Perhaps happiness clings to the wings of butterflies, elusive when pursued, yet sprinkled like fine dust upon those who move tirelessly, tenaciously, through a tumultuous world.


End file.
